Burn
by BlazeorFade
Summary: Sammy Loves The Fire


Title: Burn 

Author: BlazeorFade

Rating: Nc-17

Warnings: Wincest, fire kink

Summary: Sam loves the fire

Disclaimer: If I owned them, would I be writing this. **Pause** Well yeah, probably but I'd be getting paid for it.

Sammy has a wicked fire kink. It's a fixation he's had for as long as I can remember. It made me sick at first, but he didn't know why me and dad hated it till he was older so when I yelled at him for looking at a flame like it was an expensive toy just out of reach I told him it was because fire was dangerous. He was just a kid after all. Dad wasn't around enough to notice this turn of events, I don't know how he might've reacted if he knew.

After I told Sam why we hated fire so vehemently(yes I know a big word, try not to faint), he became obsessed. He said he wanted to understand it, the thing that destroyed our lives and stole our mom. I replied that a demon had done that and if he wanted to understand he should pay more attention when I was teaching about the things that go bump in the night. He did, he threw himself into the research aspect of what we did, but his eyes still lingered on the flame every time dad flicked open his zippo to light a cigarette.

Now as I watch him flicking that same lighter(he stole it when he was 13), open and close I realize I share his fascination. With an undercurrent of revulsion, yeah but I can't look away as he makes the flame spark to life, pausing for a second to admire it as the only light in our motel room. His pupils are wide and his breath his breath is coming out in little pants, I want to reach up and lick the sweat that's collected on his lip but this is Sam's game and I don't want to get burned unless its him doing it to me.

"Sam." I moan. He's not even touching me yet but I can feel the heat of his gaze. He's got me naked, waiting and fuckall hard but he's still admiring his precious fire.

"Damnit Dean, do you have any idea how beautiful you are." His voice is a low rasp, filled with awe and lust so thick. One hand is holding the lighter reverently, the other is sliding down his stomach to grasp his cock as he watches me standing a foot away from the bed. To damn far and how did the fast fucker get me like this so fast anyway? I can't remember, its all a blur.

His face is splitting into a wicked smile, his tongue darts out to lick his lips, taking that hard earned sweat into his own mouth, I can't believe I'm jealous he got to taste him before me. Sam is stalking toward me, fire in hand and I feel a tremble of fear that just makes me harder.

"Dean." He says crawling his way carefully over me. His hand is brushing over my thighs and stomach, wet with his precome.

"Please Sam." I'm not above begging at this point. Anything to get his hands, mouth or ass on me. I'm easy to please.

"Hold on Dean." He growls low in my ear hovering over me, he's bracing his free arm on the left side of my head holing his body away from me, just to drive me out my mind. I can feel the heat of his body and I'm whimpering, but if you repeat that I'll deny it.

"I love the way it looks next to your skin." Sam says distractedly as he watches in fascination as he brings the lighter close to my skin. The light makes my skin glow golden in the dark, the little hairs are starting to singe along my chest. Sam runs it over dangerously close to my cock always leaving it just long enough to bite but not to burn. His breath comes out in heavy pants, or is that me, I can't tell anymore, because as soon as the flame leaves its angry red mark on my skin he's there following the lines of heat with his tongue and teeth.

"SamSamSammy." I'm writhing and arching trying to get closer. Nothings holding me to this bed except the promise of the fire if I move.

"What do you think dad would hate more about this Dean?" Sam asks low and raw. As usual he has a way of shocking me back to the reality of what we're doing here.

"W-what?" I ask barely coherent. The fire is hovering over my face now, to close to my eyes that burn already. Sam is branding the trail of his flame and that fucking mouth over my shoulder, playing catch up with his lighter.

"What do you think he'd hate more, me fucking you, or the fire?" Sam asks, licking the base of the zippo, and that's just not fair.

"I don't know Sammy." I rasp out. Honestly I don't know, because John Winchester hates fire almost as much as the demon.

All I know is that Sammy loves the fire and I want it more every day.

AN: In case it wasn't obvious yet by penname, or my other fics, I have a serious fire kink.

AN2: Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing I really appreciate it.


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